The Escape
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: There was a good reason the Forbidden Forest had earned its name. Kidnapped, Hermione must decide whether to help an enemy or escape.
1. Chapter 1

The idea for this story came to me somewhere around 7:00am, which just seems cruel considering it's a Sunday. The first chapter is a bit short, but they'll get longer as I go on. Hope you enjoy! And, as always, I own nothing.

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Chapter 1  
There was a good reason the Forbidden Forest had earned its name. Dark and foreboding, the forest was full of dangerous and deadly creatures. Creatures that didn't hesitate to harm any who invaded their space. Hermione Granger had spent enough time in the woods to know exactly what lived there. But there was one she hadn't expected. There was one that would forever change her life.

The war had ended only an hour before Hermione left the once majestic castle that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now her beloved school lay in ruins as fires still burned and dead bodies continued to be moved inside. Too many faces were familiar, and she had personally been witness to too many of their deaths. Escape was what she needed, and it was what she sought.

The early May night was cold. So cold. It cut her to the bone, and the denim jacket she had worn since arriving at the castle no longer offered any protection. She moved toward the Black Lake, discarding her jacket as she went. It was covered in blood, and she no longer wanted it around her. The lake bordered the Forbidden Forest, and she could hear the sounds of lapping waves and rustling leaves fighting for sensory overload dominance. But there was something peaceful about the noise. There were no screams, no curses intended to hurt and kill. It was just the sound of nature, and it was soothing.

Hermione reached the edge of the lake and sat down. The moon was all that stood between her and complete darkness. The giant squid was her only company. But he wasn't really company for anyone. More than once, she had seen the squid throw students from the water. It didn't want to be disturbed, and neither did she. Completely and utterly alone for the first time in a year, she realized.

No one knew she was gone.

She hadn't intended to be out long.

It was too cold to sit in the dark, but at least it was safe. Hermione and her friends had fought too hard and for too long for it to not be safe. The greatest threat the wizarding world had seen in centuries had finally been defeated at the hands of Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived, the savior of the wizarding world, was at last free of the curse of Lord Voldemort. And, so, she thought nothing of being alone by the lake.

The temperature seemed to drop a few more degrees in a matter of minutes. Rising from her spot on the shore, Hermione began to walk back towards the castle. It was then she heard the whisper. A pained whisper calling her name.

_Hermione. Hermione._

Her head turned from side to side as she tried to identify the source. Turning around and around, she found herself still alone, but the voice never ceased.

_Hermione. Hermione._

The woods, she realized. The whisper was coming from the woods. It sounded haunted and pained. Perhaps someone was hurt. Perhaps they couldn't move. It was her duty to help the wounded. As tired as she was, she moved in the direction of the whisper until she was well into the Forbidden Forest. The sounds intensified. The wind. Birds. A rushing pack of centaurs. Giants fleeing. It would have terrified anyone who hadn't just survived a war.

"Hello?" Hermione called out as the whispers grew louder. The voice came more frequently until she reached a small clearing in the trees. It stopped then. Once more she tried to get the speaker's attention, but all was silent. It was too silent. Even the wind had died down. "Is someone there?" she asked, trying to keep the trepidation she felt from reaching her voice.

A dark figure emerged from the copse of trees behind her. An arm wrapped around her stomach while a hand covered her mouth. "Don't you know the forest is off limits to students?" It was a man's voice, but one that had been altered by magic to keep her from distinguishing it. "It usually carries a penalty of fifty points from Gryffindor. Or do you think it should be more?"

Hermione fought frantically to free herself, but all her flailing had little effect on her captor. "Silly little war hero," he continued. "I'll bet the boy wonder and his sidekick don't even realize you're gone. How long do you think it'll be before they notice? A few more minutes? An hour? A week? Who knows how long you'll be gone. Except for you, that is. Because the sooner you help me, the sooner you'll see them again."

Her eyes widened and shut immediately as the familiar pull of Apparation overtook her senses. Despite being back on solid ground, this man never loosened his hold on her. "Now, Miss Granger, if I let you go, will you promise to stay exactly as you are?" he asked. She nodded quickly, glad to be free of him. Hermione did as he asked, deciding obedience would get her out alive.

"Can you tell me who you are?" she asked, her voice small with nerves and fear.

"In good time," he replied.

"Where are we?" was her next question.

"Just outside the lines of Hogwarts," he told her.

"And what is it you need me to help you do?" She didn't really want to know. If he planned to kill her, she wouldn't help him achieve his nefarious goal first.

The black-cloaked man stepped in front of her. "I want you to help me escape."

It was as he was speaking that he lowered his hood. A shock of platinum blond hair greeted her before stormy gray eyes landed upon her.

Draco Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Hermione gasped in terror. "Let me go now, Malfoy, and I won't turn you in to the Aurors," she threatened.

Draco sneered and pulled a wand from his sleeve. "I don't foresee you doing anything but what's asked of you, Granger," he taunted. "I have your wand. You won't be much good without it."

"I'm better than you think," she said, mentally running through her list of wandless spells. None would get her out of the jam she currently found herself in though. "How did you Apparate from the school grounds?"

"The wards fell during the battle," he replied simply. "I'd have thought your side would be smart enough to realize that just because the Dark Lord is gone, that doesn't mean the world is safe. There's still plenty of danger out there."

Hermione laughed. "What? You mean you?" she asked. "Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

He moved closer and placed her wand beneath her chin. "I'd say you already are," he replied with menacing glee.

She swallowed reflexively as the wood dug into her skin. "Let me go, Malfoy," she whispered.

Lowering the wand, Draco shook his head. "I can't do that, Granger," he replied.

"Look, you have my wand. If that's what you wanted, then take it. Just let me go," she pleaded.

"So you can turn me in the second I turn my back?" he said. "I don't think so. I need to get out of England, go somewhere they can't find me."

Dark brows furrowed. "Who are you running from exactly?" she wondered.

"Everyone," he replied with a tired sigh. "The Ministry, Death Eaters, my father."

He took a seat on a low stone wall, leaving Hermione where she originally stood. "What makes you think I'd help you?" she inquired, arms crossed over her chest. "You've spent the last seven years insulting me and belittling me. You kidnapped me. You stole my wand. How does any of that translate to 'Hermione will help me'?"

"And I reckon if I had asked you nicely, you would surely have said yes," he retorted, getting to his feet.

"I might have," she said unconvincingly. "Guess you'll never find out now." She began to walk away, but Draco caught up with her quickly.

He gripped her arm to keep her from moving forward again. "I don't know how much clearer I need to be, Granger," he stated. "I need to get away from here, and I need your help to do it. You can either come willingly or I'll make you. But either way, you're helping me."

A small modicum of fear returned as his hold on her arm tightened. "How am I supposed to help?" she asked.

"Well, it's one thing to take your wand. I can't use my own because there's sure to be some kind of trace on it. Me being associated with the Death Eaters and all," he explained. "There's also no guarantee that your wand will respond to my commands. That's where you come in."

"If I were you, I'd be afraid that I'd turn it on you," she replied calmly, knowing she now had all the power.

Draco moved in closer and leaned down toward her right ear. "You would be surprised just how handy I am with the Unforgivables," he whispered. "I'm also pretty good with other mind control spells. Ones that aren't traceable like the Imperius Curse. I have ways to keep you in line. Ways to make you help me."

"Why haven't you used them then?"

He smirked and shifted his head so they were eye to eye. "Because I want you to do this willingly," he answered. "I want it come from the goodness of your heart. Despite the fact that we've been enemies since day one, I know you've felt bad for me. I saw the look in your eye when we saw each other at the Manor. You were thinking 'I wish I could help Draco get out of here.'"

She had thought that when she saw the terror in his eyes. The once proud and haughty boy had been reduced to a crying, fearful man. She had wondered if it was possible to help him escape the hell that had to be Malfoy Manor. And then the Cruciatus Curse came, and all rational thought had gone out the window. But how had he known that? How did he know that she wished she could help him?

"Legilimency?" she asked. "You read my mind, didn't you?"

Draco shrugged. "It's how I knew I could trust you to get me out of here," he replied.

"And go where?" she asked with a huff.

His hand fell from her arm. "I don't know," he answered. "As far away from here as I can get. Though, I think an English speaking country might be best. I've never quite had an ear for languages."

"There aren't that many wizarding communities outside of Europe," she commented, her analytical mind starting to work. "There's Salem and New York on the American east coast, and I think there's another on the west coast. Though, I'm not sure where exactly. Australia has a community as well. Also, you may need to change your appearance. The Ministry will have wanted signs posted everywhere they can."

"What about the muggle world?" he asked. "No one would look for me there."

"It's possible," she conceded. "Although, when Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban, it was reported by the muggle news as well. They didn't know he was a wizard, of course, but being accused of murder was enough."

Draco looked at her pointedly. "I'm not a murderer," he stated.

"I never said you were," she murmured.

He reclaimed his seat on the stone wall and turned her wand between his fingers. Then he snapped it in half. Hermione gasped, shock and outrage coloring her features. "I know you're past the age for the trace, but they're bound to figure out a way to track your wand," he replied, answering her unasked question. "It's better that we get rid of it and use another one."

"And where do you propose you find another one?" she inquired angrily.

Smirking, he pulled another wand from his robes. "I nicked it from one of the bodies," he said proudly. He rose from the wall and took her by the arm once more. "So, Australia?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Draco studied his new appearance in the bathroom mirror. Gone were his pale blond locks and gray eyes. His hair had been trimmed and dyed a dark brown. Hermione had changed his eyes from gray to green, then chuckled when she announced he looked like Harry. Grabbing the wand from her hand, he lightened his hair and changed his eye color to blue.

"So, now that you're here, will you let me go?" she asked.

"I don't feel right here. It's far too hot and this sun will ruin my skin," he said, lounging on the bed. "We should pick someplace else."

"_We_?" she inquired. "I don't understand why you need me in the first place."

"For one, you know more spells than I do," he stated. "Two, say I decide a muggle life is the life for me. Who better to help me adapt than a mud...sorry, muggleborn. And speaking of adapting, you really need to keep up with the glamour charms. That hair of yours is far too recognizable."

She grabbed a pillow from behind his head and smacked him with it. "Ever think I'm doing it on purpose?" she retorted.

He grabbed the pillow from her hand and tossed it across the room. "We both know you aren't stupid enough to risk that," he replied. "I'm the one with a wand, remember?"

"How could I forget?" she mumbled, taking a seat at the small table near the front door. Draco had magicked the lock so only he could open it, and gave the windows the same treatment. There was no escape unless she got the wand away from him.

"Reckon they're looking for you yet?" he asked after minutes of silence passed. Hermione shrugged and turned to stare out the window. "Is that why you forget to change your appearance? Hoping someone will spot you and tip them off?"

Sighing, she rested her head against the top of the chair. "Hasn't quite worked yet, has it," she replied. "My parents are here. Somewhere in Australia."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to keep them safe," she said. "I erased their memories and planted new ones about life-long dreams of moving to Australia."

Draco sat up and stared at her. "That explains why we couldn't find them," he muttered. "Well, the other Death Eaters anyhow. Where in Australia did you send them?"

She turned back to look at him briefly before gazing back at the window. "I didn't choose a specific place, just in case. I didn't want the memory in my head. And now I might never see them again."

Rolling his eyes, Draco got off the bed to get a glass of water. "Oh please, Granger, it's not like I intend to kill you. You'll see them again."

"Actually, I was more concerned about not being able to find them, but now I'm going to have to sleep with one eye open," she retorted.

"I told you - I'm not a murderer," he said, slamming his water glass down so hard a thin crack ran up the side of it.

"And I told you I knew that," she retorted.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned back to face her. "Look, just help me find a new place to stay, and I'll finance your search for them," he offered.

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want your money, Malfoy," she replied solemnly. "I just...aren't you tired of being afraid that someone's out to get you? I spent the last year on the run, scared everyday that we would get caught. I guess I foolishly believed that the end of Voldemort meant I could live a relatively normal life again."

"So did I," he admitted, taking a seat on the bed. "It wasn't until recently that I realized I could spend the rest of my life in prison."

"And now you might," she replied. "The Ministry probably doesn't take kidnapping lightly."

He nodded his head in agreement. "I could always Obliviate you before sending you home," he suggested.

"I might let you," she commented.

Nodding once more, he rose from the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. "We should probably start moving," he decided. "We'll buy some warmer clothes when we get to the States."

She rose to her feet, ready to go. "It's May, Malfoy. I don't think it'll be cold there," she pointed out.

"Fine, wear the same clothes you've been wearing for the past week," he muttered. "I don't really care."

He packed their meager supplies in silence while she waited by the door. With a flick of his wand, he unlocked it once he was by her side. Taking her by the hand, they exited the motel room and set off in search of a place from which to Apparate. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see," he replied, nodding to an old woman who passed them. She had smiled, obviously convinced the pair was a couple in love. Clearly she had missed the scowl Draco wore and the way Hermione tried to wrench her hand out of his. Once they passed her, Draco pulled Hermione into an alley behind a closed down storefront and Apparated them away.

"Where are we?" she asked when they landed.

Draco surveyed their surroundings. "Queensland if I did it right," he replied. "I thought maybe you could start looking for your parents here."

Shaking her head, she finally managed to shake his hold on her. "Not now," she said softly. "I can't just...when this over, when you've let me go, then I'll find them."

"Okay," he said, taking her hand once more. "Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you rather we moved on?"

Hermione shrugged. "You're the kidnapper on the run. It's up to you," she responded gruffly.

Scowling, he led her through the streets until he found a suitable cafe for lunch. "Am I going to get the same response if I ask if you'd prefer to sit inside or out?" he inquired.

Her eyes narrowed defiantly as she said, "I prefer to sit inside."

They entered the cafe and found a small table near the front windows. He handed a menu to Hermione and then opened his own to peruse the options. "Planning to open the menu any time soon?" he asked, setting his aside.

"Water's fine," she muttered.

"So that's your plan now? Starve yourself to death?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "So what if it is?" she wondered.

He opened his mouth to retort, but closed it quickly and stood up. "We have to go," he said instead, staring out the window.

With furrowed brows, she turned to get a look at what he was seeing, but didn't understand his sudden panic. "What? Why?" she wondered.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the cafe. "Death Eaters," he said once they were in the alley.


	4. Chapter 4

Call me crazy, but when the temperature is in the 50s or 60s, there should be no need for air conditioning. I sat through an hour long meeting in a very cold conference room and my teeth were chattering. I think if the sprinklers went off, snow would come out. Yeah, it's that cold in here.

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Chapter 4  
Hermione found herself in a heavily wooded area with Draco's arms wrapped around her. She shook as memories from her year on the run flooded through her mind. "They've found us, haven't they?" she asked, clutching the back of his shirt.

"Looks like," he replied. "Maybe we should avoid cities for a little while. No one would come here to look for me. I'm not exactly the roughing it type."

She nodded her head in agreement and slowly unwrapped her arms from around his waist. "It'll get cold once the sun goes down. We need some kind of shelter too."

He pulled the wand from his sleeve and handed it to her. "Do what you need to do," he told her. "Think there's anything around here to eat?"

"Let me take a look at anything you find. Who knows what's safe," she replied. While Hermione set up wards around their campsite, wards she never thought she'd need to use again, Draco found materials large enough to be transfigured into a tent. With the protective wards in place, she next turned the wand on the large branches and soon they had shelter. Now done, she handed the wand back to Draco.

"Think we'll need to stay here long?" he wondered, walking around the area in search of food.

She shrugged as she continued to transfigure rocks and branches into bedding. "Depends. How long do you think they've been following us?" she asked.

"No idea," he replied. "We only arrived in Queensland today. I hadn't seen any signs of Death Eaters when we were in Sydney."

She took a seat on the ground and plucked a blade of grass from the soil. There had to be a reason the Death Eaters had found them. Their traces had disappeared on their seventeenth birthdays, and their wands were history. There was nothing linking them to the magic they had done in the last week.

"The wand, Draco," she realized. "You took it off one of the bodies. Wasn't the Ministry registering wands when Thicknesse and Umbridge were in charge?"

Draco dropped the wand and backed away from it. "It belonged to a Death Eater," he told her. "A lot of them were exempt from that, but You Know Who tracked our wands. What if that spell didn't lift when he was killed?"

"What are the chances they're smart enough to not be fooled by the protection charms?" she asked.

He shook his head. "They aren't," he replied. "But I think tomorrow we should figure out a way to get another wand, an unregistered wand, and get the hell out of here."

She nodded in agreement and surveyed the meager rations Draco had managed to collect. "This won't last long," she murmured, counting a few leaves. "And these berries are poisonous." She tossed them away.

"Happen to know any wandless spells that'll conjure food?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, but I know a multiplying spell. If we only plan to stay tonight, it should be good enough."

"If only you could transfigure food," he bemoaned, munching on a leaf. "We could have been eating fish and chips if those bloody Death Eaters hadn't shown up. Well, you would have been enjoying a lovely glass of water."

"How about you stop obsessing about food for longer than a minute?" she suggested in an irritation-rich tone of voice. "God, it's like being with Ron."

Draco scowled. "Did you just compare me to the Weasel?"

"Well, if the shoe fits," she replied.

His scowl turned to a confused frown. "Why wouldn't my shoes fit?" he wondered. "They're custom made. And besides, what do my shoes have to do with you comparing me to the Weasel?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "Never mind," she murmured.

"What did the three of you do when you were on the run?" he asked.

She plucked another blade of grass and pulled it apart. "Mostly tried not to get caught," she replied. "We moved around a lot, looking for the other horcruxes."

"Yeah, but I mean, when you were just camped out. No threats of detection, no horcrux hunting. You were just in your tent," he clarified. "What did you do to pass the time?"

"Ron sulked, I read, and Harry tortured himself trying to figure out what to do next," she stated.

Draco sighed, deciding to take a different approach. "Okay, muggles camp a lot, right?" he asked. "What do they do to pass the time?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. Sit on the dirty ground, freeze, sleep on the dirty ground, freeze," she replied. "We weren't a camping family. My mum wasn't much for roughing it."

Scowling, he attempted to rid his hands of the dirt. "I can't say I blame her," he muttered. "How are you at wandless cleaning spells?"

"Really good," she promised with a laugh. "When you're on the run in the woods with two boys, it's a skill you hone rather quickly."

"Thank goodness for that," he replied. He laid back, tucking his arms beneath his head, and closed his eyes. "Do you get much sleep?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Sleep," he reiterated, opening one eye. "You always look tired, and I don't think I've seen you sleep once since we left England."

She shifted uncomfortably. "I sleep," she mumbled.

Draco sat up, resting his weight on his elbows. "Do you have nightmares too?"

Hermione rose to her feet, dusted off the seat of her pants, and moved to the edge of the wards. "Don't do that, Malfoy," she muttered. "We're not friends. Don't ask me things that a friend would ask."

"You've already told me things a friend would share," he pointed out. "Your parents, your time on the run. Why should this be any different? We experienced the same thing, Granger."

She turned slowly to face him. There was a sadness in his eyes that she hadn't expected to see. They had been through similar experiences despite having fought for opposing sides. Draco had long been all talk and little action, and the life of a Death Eater wasn't one he had wanted. She understood that, but it was too difficult to accept that Draco Malfoy would ever be anything more than the enemy.

"I know we did," she murmured. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"I get it. I'm going to sleep," he muttered, rising to his feet. He stopped by the tent. "Listen, Granger. I know we're not friends. I know we'll never be friends. But right now we're all the other one has, and I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

She waited until she heard the flap on the tent flip shut, then turned around. "Thanks," she whispered.


	5. Chapter 5

It's Monday again, and with the day came a migraine. I swear I'll go to the doctor one day. Once I find my big girl pants and stop being a chicken.

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Chapter 5  
When she awoke, Hermione was warm. The night before had become bitterly, bone-chillingly cold, and the tent provided little warmth. No, it was the arms wrapped around her that brought comfort from the cold, she realized as her eyes opened. Draco was still asleep and she could feel his breath on her face. She should have moved away. It would not bode well for Draco to realize that she allowed him to hold her long after she had awoken. But it was warm and comfortable, and she liked the contact. Instead, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Early morning sunlight filtered in through the slit in the front of their tent. Draco blinked slowly and shifted into a more comfortable position. It was then he noticed the additional weight on his chest. Looking down, he was confronted by a mass of curly brown hair. Pushing it back, he saw that she remained asleep, and was reluctant to disturb her. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when she began to stir. "Morning," he murmured.

"Hi," she replied sleepily as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. "One of us should have kept watch."

"If your charms worked, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about," he replied as he got to his feet. He poked his head out of the tent and reported, "We're still alone."

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. "So, what's the plan now?" she asked as she followed him out into the clearing. "Do you know how to Apparate without a wand?"

"I think so," he replied, but his usual confidence was lacking. "My mother was teaching me last year. Trust me enough to give it a try?"

"Hardly," she muttered with a mirthless laugh. But she accepted his outstretched hand and allowed him to hold her close. "Just...do your best not to splinch either one of us."

Nodding, he closed his eyes and focused his complete energy on getting them out of the forest safely. He needed to choose a place with a wizarding population that wouldn't recognize them, but wouldn't be too far away also. Sydney was the first place that came to mind, and they landed in a dank alley behind a fish shop.

"Good job," she commented as they made their way to the street. "Now to find a wand."

"Shouldn't be that hard," he replied, pointing to a sign hung above their heads. "Looks like we found the wand shop."

Smiling, she followed him inside and perused the merchandise. A stout, gray-haired man approached with a friendly smile. "Anything I can help you with today?" he inquired.

Draco looped his arm around Hermione's waist and shot the old man a smile. "I'm in need of a new wand," he stated. "Mine broke, and my girl's wand doesn't seem to like me."

"Step right this way, and we'll see what we can do for you," the proprietor said. He handed Draco a myriad of wands, but none felt right. "No, no. These won't do," he muttered.

Hermione, who had remained silent thus far, offered a suggestion. "Do you have anything with unicorn hair? Perhaps made of hawthorn?"

Draco looked at her quizzically for a brief moment before returning his attention to the old man. "Just one," he replied, his eyes lighting up in anticipation of finding a wand that might work.

While the shopkeeper searched for the suggested wand, Draco turned to Hermione. "How do you know what kind of wand I had?" he inquired, leaning against the front counter.

"Harry took it from you, remember?" she replied. "I might have studied it a bit."

He couldn't help the amused smirk that quirked his lips. "You, uh, studied my wand, Granger?" he asked with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows.

"Don't be crass," she admonished, slapping his arm. "Oh look, he's back with your wand."

Draco held it, getting a feel for the familiar object. "Bit longer than my old one," he mused. "Guess that's to be expected when you get older, right, Hermione?"

A blush colored her cheeks as her elbow connected with his ribs to let him know she didn't appreciate his rude remark. "Will it suffice?" she inquired impatiently. Draco nodded and paid the shopkeeper, then escorted her outside. "So, what now?" she wondered, staring longingly as the shop disappeared behind them.

"Now we get out of Australia as quickly as we can," he replied. "You said there's a wizarding contingent in America, right?"

Hermione nodded. "In New York City," she told him. "Do you think it's a good idea to go there though? If the Death Eaters really are searching for you, maybe the muggle world is a better place to lie low."

"Especially if they know about the community there," he added pensively. "Okay, so do we still go to New York, or do we pick someplace else?"

Closing her eyes, Hermione tried her best to visualize the east coast of the United States. Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey were all close enough to New York, and were believed to be wizard-free. If they wanted the comfort of having a wizarding community nearby, those were their best bets.

"New York seems like too obvious a place," she decided. "Sure, it would be easy to get lost there, what with it being so crowded. But..."

"But you have something else in mind," he interjected.

Smiling, she nodded and held out her hand. Draco placed his new wand on her palm, and waited for the feeling of Apparation to end. When his feet touched the ground and he opened his eyes, he found himself beneath a bridge. "Where are we?" he wondered, surveying their surroundings. It was mostly water, but when he turned to his right, he found a fenced-in park.

"I read the name in a book once," she explained. "I'm not sure why it popped into my head now though."

"Well, it seems quiet and remote enough that they won't look for us here," he determined. "We should probably get out from underneath this bridge. I really am hungry."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "A little smelly too," she added. "We should probably find someplace to stay."


	6. Chapter 6

Some people were guessing where they are. The ones who guessed New Jersey are correct. No one seemed to guess Bayonne, though. Because we're not on the map. Because my pinky nail is bigger than Bayonne. But it's close to New York City and I know it really well, so I figured it would be a good place for them to go.

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Chapter 6  
"Still no word from her?" Molly Weasley asked nervously.

Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and sighed wearily. "Nothing," he replied. "The Ministry is still in too much of a shambles to help, and Ron and I have no idea where to even begin. I found her wand near the Hogshead, broken in two. Doesn't give us much to go on."

She set a warm plate teeming with food in front of him and patted his back. "What scares me is that she hasn't tried to contact you," she murmured, returning to the stove. The thought of if she's still alive plagued their minds, and didn't need to be said aloud.

There had been another thought on his mind, one he hadn't yet voiced. "What if...I mean, we never considered that she left on her own," he said. "What if she decided to run away and doesn't want to be found?"

"Well, did she ever give any indication that she planned to run?" Molly inquired.

"There was talk of looking for her parents," Harry recalled. "I figured she would have asked us to help her with that though. And I really thought she'd at least let us know she was going instead of disappearing in the middle of the night."

At least a week had passed since Hermione vanished after the battle ended. No witnesses had come forward offering news. They had reached out to foreign ministries, but most wizarding communities had their own war aftermath to deal with. Voldemort's reign of terror, it seemed, extended far past the United Kingdom.

Ron came down the stairs, his gait becoming heavier and heavier with each step he took, and sat down across from Harry at the table. "Ya know, there's still no word on what happened to Malfoy either," he said.

"You think the two disappearances could be related?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "That's exactly what I think," he replied angrily. "I'm willing to bet he took her."

"But why?" Molly wondered, distraught by the possibility that their Hermione was in the clutches of a Malfoy.

"He hates her. Why kidnap her?" Harry wondered. "He had ample opportunity to kill her during the battle, and he didn't. Why wait until the war's over to hurt her?"

Ron shrugged, but refused to back down. "Maybe he needs her for something," he insisted. "Maybe he just wants to proud to his dear old daddy that he's capable of hurting someone. Her wand was found in Hogsmeade. I doubt she snapped it herself."

"We can't spend the rest of our lives blaming Malfoy for everything that goes wrong," Harry said tiredly. Ron began to object, but was quickly cut off. "Especially when there's no proof he was involved. When we have evidence, then we blame him."

Ron let out a frustrated huff and excused himself from the table. There was a heavy stomp of feet, followed by the slamming of a door. When the house was once again quiet, Mrs. Weasley took Ron's now unoccupied seat. "What's bothering you, dear?" she asked, placing her hand over his.

With his free hand, Harry removed his glasses and sighed. "That he might be right."

"This place is a pit," Draco groused as he examined the abandoned home where they planned to spend the night.

"Under the radar, Draco," she reminded him, shaking the dust from tarps they'd found in the basement. "Besides, who knows how long you'll have to make your money last. It's not smart to continue spending it on hotel rooms."

There was a retort on the tip of his tongue, but it died as a realization came to him. "You called me Draco," he said, taking hold of her arm to still her movements.

Hermione shrugged. "It's your name, isn't it?" she replied coolly.

"It is," he confirmed. "I've just never heard you use it."

She laid out the tarps on the floor and sat down. "Think anyone's looking for us yet?" she wondered.

Draco removed the wand from his pocket and joined her on the floor. He took his time to start a small, containable fire for her to warm up over. "Probably," he mumbled. "Reckon they've figured out we're together?"

A shrug was all he got in the way of a response. "I think we could spend a few days here," she decided. "We'll move on next week, if that's alright with you."

Draco nodded and watched as she laid down. He remained silent as she tried to find a comfortable position, but the concrete and tarps made it impossible. "Come here," he said, backing up until he reached the wall, then stretched his legs out in front of him. She eyed him suspiciously, but complied a few seconds later. He patted his leg, a silent instruction to place her head on it. "Now close your eyes and try to sleep," he instructed. His fingers toyed with her hair as she drifted off to sleep, and despite the growing darkness, he couldn't bring himself to feel tired.

Sighing, he leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the cracked ceiling. "How do I get you out of this, Granger?" he wondered. "Why was I stupid enough to convince myself I needed you in the first place? I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

Hermione rolled over, her face pressed against his stomach. "It's okay," she murmured sleepily. "I'll help. I can help."

He stroked the side of her face, smoothing out worry lines and tucking her hair behind her ear. "I know you can," he replied, not sure if she was really listening. "I just don't know that you should."

The sun had just peaked over the horizon when Hermione awoke. Draco was already awake, or he had never been to sleep the night before. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and smiled at him. "Sleep well?" she asked.

His eyes were trained on the opposite wall and he seemed to stare at it intently. "Quiet," he whispered. With her head now off of his legs, he got to his feet and moved slowly. As he walked, he held the wand out in front of himself. Hermione followed behind him, and when he offered her his hand, she held it. The closer they moved to the staircase, the louder the noise grew.

"What is that?" she asked, remembering to keep her voice down. "Do you think they found us?"

Draco shook his head. "Only one way to find out," he mumbled, pushing open the door at the top of the steps. They exited the basement and found themselves in a sitting room devoid of furniture. "Sounds like crying."

Hermione stopped short. "It sounds like a baby."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
"Are you suggesting that someone dumped a baby on the doorstep of a house that looks like it hasn't been lived in for at least the last decade?" he inquired in a harsh whisper.

"What's your suggestion?" she deadpanned. Dropping his hand, she moved around him and peered through the peephole in the door. Looking down, she spotted a small baby bundled in a purple blanket.

Draco stood behind her and closed his hand over hers when she reached for the doorknob. "It could be a trap," he cautioned. Moving her behind him, he held his wand at the ready and opened the door. The wails grew louder now that there was no barrier between them and the baby. He surveyed the area, casting silent detection spells that gave no one away. "Looks clear," he reported.

Hermione bent down and picked up the crying baby. The early morning was chilly and the baby's cheeks were cold despite her tears. "Who would leave a baby?" she muttered, carrying the little girl inside.

"Does it have any ID?" Draco asked, keeping his eyes trained on the front yard.

"She's an infant, Draco. Not a dog," Hermione retorted.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "I know its not a dog. I meant like a magical ID. There's a spell to detect it. If the Death Eaters are hoping to lure us out with it, this kid should have wizard blood. There's no way they'd deal with a muggle baby. Wouldn't want to get their hands dirty."

"We should take her to hospital," Hermione suggested. "Maybe they can find her parents. Or at least someone who can take care of her. She's quite pretty though, isn't she. Gray eyes like yours."

Draco turned away from the windows and took the baby from her arms. "You can't fall in love with this baby," he warned. "We can't keep it. Our funds are running low as it is."

"I know," she replied sadly.

"We'll do what we can for it," he promised, "but we have to think about ourselves right now."

He was right. For the first time, Hermione agreed with the Malfoy belief in looking out for one's self above all others. With Death Eaters potentially trailing them, it wouldn't do to add another burden. And, she tried to convince herself, an infant would be a burden.

Leaning against him, her eyes rested on the baby in his arms. "I just feel bad for her," she murmured. "Abandoned by her parents, all alone. Harry used to tell me about what it was like when he was growing up. His aunt and uncle were awful to him. What if that happens to her too?"

Carefully, he shifted the baby so she rested against his left arm, leaving his right arm free to wrap around Hermione's shoulders. "Would it be easier for you if I take her to hospital myself?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'll go with you," she replied. "I don't like the idea of being separated, especially someplace that neither one of us knows."

A smile cracked on Draco's face. "Oh come on now, Hermione, this was your chance to escape," he teased.

But Hermione wasn't amused. "I thought you heard me last night when I told you I want to help," she replied, frowning as she stared up at him.

"I did," he confirmed. "Just thought I'd give you an out while you're conscious."

"The only place I'm going is with you to the hospital," she stated firmly. She took the baby from his arms and marched to the front door. "Now, how do we get to the hospital?"

He draped his blazer over the baby and led Hermione out of the house. The streets were empty, cars abandoned, and lights off in each home. "We could start walking," Draco suggested when he realized there was no help in sight. "Maybe we'll run into someone along the way."

Hesitantly, she agreed and they set out to find a hospital. The streets were numbered and she noticed they seem to get higher the farther they walked. "This town has no signs besides street numbers," she groused as she checked on the baby asleep against her chest. She had begun to get heavy as they walked and Hermione had to readjust her every few steps.

"Let me take her," Draco offered, easing the baby from Hermione's arms. They reached 25th Street before seeing a sign for the Bayonne Medical Center.

"That's a hospital right?" she asked, her excitement growing at the thought they might soon be able to stop wandering aimlessly.

Draco shrugged as he stared at the sign. "Sounds like it would be," he replied. They followed the signs until the hospital was in sight.

A block away, Hermione stopped walking. "Draco, what if they need to contact us?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure there's no one in there who communicates by owl."

"Wand's in my back pocket. Think you can conjure one of those things muggles talk on?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "You can't use magic to conjure muggle technology. At least I don't think you can," she replied.

Looking around, he noticed a cellphone on the seat of a nearby parked car. Handing the baby back to Hermione, he walked over and unlocked the door. "Looks like we've got...one of these," he said, smiling. "Know how to work it?"

"That's stealing, Draco," came her admonishment. Rolling his eyes, he pressed the phone into her hand. Shifting the baby to one arm, she turned on the phone and scanned through the options until she found the phone's number. "It works. Keep in mind I'm not okay with this."

Draco shrugged and continued walking. "We'll repent later," he retorted. In a matter of minutes, they reached the hospital and entered through the emergency room entrance. An older woman was seated behind the reception desk working on a crossword puzzle, and never looked up despite his incessant throat clearing. "A little help please?"

"Insurance?" she inquired, her head still bent over her puzzle.

"I don't have any," he replied. "But there was a baby left on our doorstep. We thought someone here might be able to help."

Finally, she put her pen down and looked up. Her eyes flitted from him to Hermione as she uncovered the baby. "We just found her this morning," she explained. "We only arrived in town yesterday. We're not sure who left her."

The receptionist beckoned a security guard to come forward and he took the child from Hermione's arms. "A doctor will look at her and social services will find her a home if a biological parent can't be found," the receptionist stated blandly, as if it were a speech she gave a hundred times a day.

"What kind of home?" Hermione asked.

"A foster home," the older woman replied.

Clearing his throat, Draco stepped forward. "Sorry, I'm not familiar with that," he said. From the look on Hermione's face, he was sure she was though.

"It's like a temporary home until someone's willing to adopt her," Hermione explained. "There's also a chance that she can be moved from home to home, isn't there?"

"It's happened," the receptionist replied, though her tone held a little more sympathy than before.

Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders as the guard carried the baby through a set of doors they were not allowed to enter. "We should go," he murmured.

Hermione nodded and allowed him to lead her away. "Wait," she said, turning back to the receptionist. "Could you call this number to let us know she's alright?"

The old woman nodded, promising to call when she had news.


	8. Chapter 8

I've been sick for about a week now, and I've reached the point in my cold where my ears don't pop. It's the most frustrating feeling!

* * *

Chapter 8  
"She's not gonna call," Draco muttered when they returned to their safe house. "We should have stayed, said we were the kid's parents."

"You said we couldn't keep her," Hermione reminded him.

Sighing, Draco sat down on their tarp bed. "I know what I said," he replied. "I know we can't keep her. We hardly have enough money to feed ourselves, let alone a baby. But that thing you were talking about - foster homes - what if she never gets adopted?"

She sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You have to have hope, Draco," she told him. "She's a beautiful little girl. Someone will want her."

They sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. Memories of his own childhood plagued his mind. "My father was never around when I was little," he found himself saying. "He never knew how to be a father, and I don't think he ever wanted to be one. He missed everything - my birth, first words, first steps, every birthday. And yet I wanted to be him so badly. The first time I saw his mark, I spent months perfecting it, drawing it on my arm. I can't recall a time he talked to me before my Hogwarts letter came.

"My mother wasn't much better," he continued. "I know she loves me. She told me once that she did. But she preferred to allow the nannies and tutors to raise me. I only saw my parents when I was expected at their parties, and even then it was only for a few minutes before I was sent back to my room."

"That sounds like a lonely childhood," Hermione commented.

Draco nodded and removed her arms from his body. He laid down on the dusty tarp and closed his eyes, willing his brain to give him an image of anything but his parents. Not once since he had left did he miss them. His father had put the family in an impossible situation by aligning with the Dark Lord, and his mother had done nothing to stop him. The old man had become obsessed with ridding the world of those he deemed below them, which included anyone who wasn't Pureblood. And he had encouraged his only child to think the same way.

"I won't be like them," he vowed, opening his eyes. Hermione remained seated, staring down at him. "I'm sorry I kidnapped you, Hermione."

"You're not as bad a person as you think you are, Draco," she stated, turning to fully face him. "I could have left a number of times. You give me the wand all the time. There's nothing stopping me from stunning you and Apparating out of here."

"Then why didn't you?" he wondered exasperatedly. "You didn't want to be here. You didn't want to be with me. You would have done everyone a favor by offing me."

Hermione moved closer and laid down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Because I'm not a murderer," she replied calmly. "And you're right - I didn't want anything to do with you in the beginning. You were mean and arrogant and you truly treated me like I was a hostage. Everything changed when those Death Eaters found us though. It stopped being you versus me, and became you _and_ me."

He moved his arm to rest around her shoulders. "So, that's how you want it to be?" he asked, unsure that he had understood correctly. "Like we're a team somehow?"

"Is that really so bad?" she wondered. "We've managed to survive so far."

"Sure, thanks to you," he remarked. "Transfiguring shelter, finding food, locating obscure U.S. towns that no one has ever heard of. All I've done is kidnap you."

"You've done more than that," she assured him. "You got us away from those two Death Eaters in Australia. You got us a new wand. You helped the baby. Stop thinking that you're just some Death Eater who doesn't have a good bone in his body."

A mirthless chuckle passed his lips, one he hadn't expected to let out. Hermione Granger was perhaps the only person on the planet who thought he had some good inside of him. All his life, he had been told he was spoiled and selfish, rude and self-centered. He'd never done a bit of good for anyone else, and never intended to start.

"Get some sleep, Hermione," he muttered. He removed his arm from her shoulders and sat up.

She, too, sat up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

He wondered if she was afraid that he was leaving, and leaving her behind. "Just to find some food," he promised. "I'll leave the wand with you if it'll make you feel better."

Hermione shook her head and laid back down. "No, you might need it," she replied. She watched him walk away. "Draco?" she said when he reached the stairs.

He turned back to look at her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just...be careful," she told him as an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.

He climbed the next step and smiled at her. "I'll be okay," he told her. "Lock the doors, then stay down here when I leave though. I'll try not to be gone for too long, but I want to know that you're safe."

Getting to her feet, she followed him to the first floor. She didn't point out the fact that if they had been followed, locking the door would do her little good against armed Death Eaters. After locking the door, she watched from the peephole until he was out of sight. For the first time in a long time, she was truly alone.

One block from the house, Draco made up his mind. He needed a plan and he needed it fast. There was no way the hospital would allow him to walk in and lay claim to the baby they had brought in earlier. It was foolish and reckless, but he wanted her. As he walked back to the hospital, an idea began to form in his mind. One that would require the use of a little magic.


	9. Chapter 9

Just a little something before the weekend. We had a party today at work to celebrate my boss's retirement. I was completely sober because my doctor gave me a whole lot of meds, and I couldn't drink. My friend made gluten free brownies and I made chocolate peanut butter fudge, so that made up for it.

* * *

Chapter 9  
The house was quiet, the basement was cold, and Hermione's stomach would not cease rumbling. Draco had been gone too long for her not to worry about him. Anxiety had taken over the second he walked out the door, and she counted the seconds until he returned. When she heard the front door open, she quickly scurried beneath the stairs to hide until she was sure it was a friendly face.

The gait was soft and slow, and dare she say, hesitant. Hermione kept her back pressed to the wall, hoping she wouldn't be detected. Then she heard her name, and knew the voice immediately. Emerging from her hiding spot, she stopped short. "What did you do?" she asked worriedly.

"I couldn't leave her there," Draco explained. "I used a Disillusionment Charm to get in. When I got to the ward where they were keeping her, there was no one around. Who leaves a ward full of helpless babies unattended?"

"Sure, someone could walk in and steal one," she retorted angrily. "Why would you do this? Do you realize how much trouble we could get into? Did you even stop to think about how we'll take care of her?"

"No, okay?" he replied, his own ire beginning to get the best of him. Removing his wand from his back pocket, he transfigured an empty cardboard box into a bassinet and laid the baby down. "I just kept thinking about what you said about Potter and the way he grew up. And then I thought about the way I was raised by parents who didn't really know how to be parents. I just...we were lying there, talking, and all I could think about was that she was all alone. I had to do something, Hermione."

She quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "You did a good thing."

He slowly gave in to her embrace and held her tightly. "I did a stupid thing," he admitted. "If that woman at the hospital can identify us, we're done. And we can't go back to the wizarding world because we were followed there. I don't know what to do."

Hermione pulled back just enough to look up at him. "Right now, I think we should sleep," she decided. "Did you manage to get any food? She'll be hungry soon, I'd wager. Tomorrow we'll move. We'll use glamour charms. We'll stick to unknown areas. We'll figure out a way to deal with this."

"And if we can't?" he wondered. "What happens then? I won't dump her on some doorstep."

"I don't think we'll have to," she assured him. "Her appearance is bound to change on its own. No one will know she was taken from the hospital."

"You've given this a frightening amount of thought," he commented, turning his head to check on the sleeping infant.

Hermione chuckled. "What else was I supposed to do while you were off literally robbing the cradle?" she inquired. "In all honesty, I've been thinking about her too since we left the hospital. I hated having to leave her there."

He pulled one hand away and dipped it into his back pocket. "I stole these too," he told her, holding up small bottles and a jar of powdered formula. "I know you don't approve of stealing, but it's for the baby. I figured that would be alright."

Taking the goods from his hand, Hermione used the wand to restore them to their former size. "The water works down here," she commented, moving toward an old sink on the other side of the basement. "I guess we can use magic to warm the formula."

Draco moved back to the bassinet as the baby awoke. Hermione walked over with a bottle in hand, testing the liquid on the inside of her wrist as she approached. "Excellent timing," he remarked as he lifted the baby from the cradle. Hermione removed the wand from his back pocket and transfigured another box into a chair. Then she handed him the bottle. "Me?" he asked.

"Why not?" Hermione replied. "You're already holding her. And her food. I'd take a seat, if I were you, and give her that bottle."

Draco was nervous as he sat down and positioned the baby so she rested in his left arm. He eyed Hermione, seeking approval, as he held the bottle to the baby's lips. The little girl latched on and drank greedily. "Am I doing this right?" he asked. She adjusted the bottle so it tilted more and nodded.

"I think she likes you," Hermione commented, noticing the gray eyes of the little girl that were so completely focused on Draco.

"I have food," he replied. "You'd be in love with me too."

Taking a seat on the floor, she smirked at him. "Must explain why I'm not in love with you yet," she teased. "I can't remember the last time we had real food."

Draco cleared his throat, made uneasy by her casual remark. "So, where do we go next?" he asked.

"We could go to New York City," she suggested. "The crowds are bigger, so we'll blend in better."

Nodding, he returned his attention to the bottle in his hand. "Maybe we should stay here for a bit longer," he said. "It's not so bad here. Plus, we have a place to stay here."

"But for how long?" she wondered. "Besides, they might start looking for us when they notice she's gone missing from the hospital. And it's a small town, Draco. Not many places to hide. Especially with your new-found stealing habit."

"I like to think of it as survival," he retorted, handing her the now empty bottle. Without being told to do so, he lifted the baby to his shoulder and gently patted her back. "I only took things we would need - food, clothes."

"A baby," she interrupted. "By the way, you put that cell phone back, right?"

Despite the roll of his eyes, Draco nodded. "Yes, some nice muggle businessman got his phone back," he replied. "What would you have done? Say you were back home and you open the front door to fetch the morning paper, and there's a baby on your doorstep. You can either help her by keeping her or let her end up in that foster system you told me about. Which would you do?"

"I'd keep her," Hermione admitted. "And I want to keep her, even in this situation."

He rose from the chair and laid the baby back down in the bassinet. After tucking a blanket around her for warmth, he took a seat on the floor beside Hermione. "Then stop making me feel guilty for what I did," he implored, bumping his shoulder against hers.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, placing a hand over his. He glanced down and smiled; his way of saying all was forgiven. But there was something in his eyes, an emotion she'd never seen there before. Compassion was evident in his gaze. It was a new side of Draco Malfoy, and Hermione decided it was one she liked. Slowly, she leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his for the briefest of kisses. But one simple kiss wasn't enough for Draco. He placed his free hand amongst her curls and held her close for a few seconds longer. When he finally let go, she sat back, but continued to hold his hand. "She needs a name. I think you should give it to her."

"Emily," he decided. "I like Emily."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
"Two more Death Eaters were caught today," Harry announced as he entered the Burrow at dinner time.

"My, you get an awful lot of information for someone who doesn't actually work for the Ministry," George commented as he pushed his peas around on the plate in front of him.

Ron glared at his older brother before turning his attention back to his best friend. "Any new leads on Hermione?" he asked, hoping the answer would be yes after a month of hearing no.

Sadly, Harry shook his head as he took his usual seat at the table. "Nothing new," he replied. "The two who were caught mentioned seeing someone who fit her description with Draco Malfoy in Australia. They were tracking him. Apparently, Death Eaters aren't fans of the Malfoy family either. Anyhow, they disappeared once they saw them."

"So, I was right then," Ron stated, both happy that he was correct and angry that Malfoy had Hermione. "What do we do now?"

Harry shrugged as he hefted a large spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate. "I don't know that there's anything we can do," Harry stated. "There was a trace on Malfoy's wand, one placed on it by Voldemort, but there's been no sign of activity for about a week. At least, that's what Walden and Goyle said. If Malfoy knew about it, there's a good chance he's snapped his wand and found a new one. An untraceable one."

"Back at square one then, eh, mate?" George interjected before pushing away from the table.

All eyes followed George as he left the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. "Ignore him," Ron mumbled, his mouth full as he spoke.

"He lost his twin and his best friend," Harry remarked. "He has a right to be upset."

"But about Hermione?" Ron questioned, his voice rising with anger. "She's been my best friend and a part of this family for years. Shouldn't he care just a little bit that she's not here? We all lost Fred. He's not the only one who's hurting right now."

It was Bill, the oldest Weasley son, who spoke up. "He may not be alone in his pain, but he's feeling it the hardest," he said. "He and Fred have been inseparable since birth. Now George has lost a part of himself. So, like Harry said, cut him some slack. At least we can hold onto hope that Hermione is still alive."

Hermione hadn't slept in days. Emily cried most of the night and days were spent in watchful hiding. Only once had Draco dared to venture from the rundown house they were squatting in after arriving in New York City. He had taken Emily for a walk and to find food, giving Hermione a few quiet hours to herself. But she never seemed able to relax when Draco was gone. She worried about his safety, her own, and now Emily's.

It had been a month since they'd gone on the run, and it baffled her that no one had found them yet. Had Harry or Ron even looked for her? Did they make the connection between Draco's disappearance and her own? When would the Aurors descend upon them? She had already decided she would not turn on Draco if the Ministry did find them. She would protect him as best she could.

Moving through the small house, she managed to find a few old, yellowed sheets of paper and a pencil that needed sharpening. The idea to write to Harry had occurred to her the night before while trying to calm down Emily. Maybe if he knew she had gone with Draco by her own volition, he would call off any search that was in progress. If he was actually looking for her.

The front door opened and she heard Draco call softly for her. Abandoning the paragraph that had taken her an hour to write, she greeted him and took Emily from his arms. "Have a nice walk?" she asked, giggling when Emily placed one small hand over her lips.

"So that's how we get you to stop talking," Draco joked, kissing Hermione's cheek as he moved further into the house.

"It's cute when the baby does it," she reminded him. "You'll lose an arm if you try."

Draco backed off, holding his hands up in surrender. "I brought food," he announced, setting a plastic bag down on the floor. That's when the paper caught his eye. "What's this?" he asked, picking it up.

Hermione reached for it, but Draco was faster. "It's just a letter," she explained. "I thought if I told Harry that I'm alright, he won't have the Ministry come looking for us."

"Were you going to tell him that you're with me?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Don't you want me to?"

"That depends," he replied. "Do you think mentioning me will call off his search?"

Sighing, she took a seat on the one chair they had. "I don't even know if there is a search," she stated. "Maybe we'll get some news, find out what's going on back home."

Draco nodded and took a seat on the floor. He removed each item from the bag and laid it out before him. "You didn't answer my question," he said.

"I'll only tell him if you want me to," she replied. He distracted himself with the spread, frowning as each item came into view. He was worried, that much she knew. What he didn't know was that his fears of being turned in for kidnapping were unfounded. Standing up, she carefully eased herself down to the floor. "I have no intention of telling him what happened that night."

"Why?" he wondered.

"You still don't get it," she muttered, shaking her head. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Draco shrugged. "I guess."

Those two little words surprised her. "You guess?" she replied. "Here I thought you knew that I was your friend, but I suppose I was wrong. I'm sorry for making such a bold assumption."

She handed Emily to him and stood up, leaving Draco and lunch behind. He watched her leave the room as he processed her confession. "I messed up, didn't I?" he asked the little girl. He got to his feet and moved toward the back room that they used for a bedroom. "Can I come in?"

Hermione looked up and nodded. He entered and laid Emily down in her bassinet. "I'm sorry," he said as he moved to sit beside her. "I shouldn't have doubted our friendship. You're the only friend I have."

"I don't want to see anything bad happen to you," she told him, staring down at her linked hands. "I could have left you out of the letter so you wouldn't get into trouble. All Harry would have known was that I was tired of being a witch and decided to leave. It wouldn't have been entirely false."

"You never want to go back?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
Trips to New York's wizarding hub were infrequent. It was too risky to be seen, as missing persons posters depicting their images had been hung on every available surface. Hermione had taken to using glamour charms whenever she left the house so as not to be detected. The letter to Harry was safely tucked in her pocket as she crossed the threshold into the wizarding world.

The post office was her first destination. She requested an untraceable owl so Harry wouldn't know her location. He could reply to her though, and the post office would alert her that she had mail. Her hand shook as she gave the letter over to the clerk, and left as soon as the task was finished. The next stop was the bank. Funds had begun to run low, and now that Harry knew she was alright, she decided it was safe to make a few withdrawals.

Her trip was quick, and she returned home as soon as she finished converting to muggle money. Draco lay on the sofa with Emily asleep on his chest when she arrived back at the house. "It's done," she told him, whispering so she wouldn't disturb the baby.

"Think he'll write back?" Draco asked, keeping his voice just as low. "Do you think he'll mention anything about my parents?"

She took a seat on the floor and placed her hand on Emily's back. "You read the letter," she replied. "I asked about them, and I'm hoping he knows something. But, Draco, what if it isn't good news?"

He shrugged as carefully as he could. "Not much I can do, right?" he replied. "Going back isn't an option for me, and there's nothing I can do to help them here."

But his stories about how little his parents cared for him swam through her mind. Did he care about what was happening to them? Would he be upset if a horrible fate befell them? Draco's feelings were always so heavily guarded that she couldn't even read the emotion in his eyes. He hadn't even looked at her since she sat down.

"Did they know about your plan?" she asked.

He smoothed down Emily's fine, dark hair. "When we fled, just before the battle ended, my father told me to leave," he said. "Just told my mother to let go of my hand and told me to go. I wasn't to contact them or give them any idea of my whereabouts. I think it was the first time in my life that Lucius actually seemed concerned about me."

"Do you think he wanted you to be a Death Eater?" she wondered.

"Hard to say," he replied. "He wanted me to believe the things he believed, ideals that had been passed down through the generations. Remember when I told you I used to draw the Dark Mark on my arm? He whipped me for it when he found out. I was five years old, and had no idea what it really meant. When the Dark...when Voldemort reappeared, my father seemed scared all the time. I once overheard him instructing my mother to take me and run."

"Why didn't she?"

A sour look appeared momentarily on his face. "Because she didn't want to leave him," he answered. "And I think I understand that now. Because whatever trouble we encounter, I don't think I could leave you."

"Even if it meant protecting Emily?" she inquired. "Because I would want you to leave me if it meant keeping her safe."

Draco stared up at the ceiling as he formulated his reply. "I think I would do whatever I could to ensure the safety of both of you," he decided.

Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his. "We're safe now, Draco," she murmured. "No one knows where we are. There's nothing to worry about for now."

Nodding his head, he prayed she was right.

An owl-less letter appeared at Harry's window two days later. Immediately, he recognized the perfect penmanship and cautiously chosen words. Hermione was fine. She was happy. He shouldn't look for her, and she wouldn't give him her location. He could reply to her, leaving the letter on the windowsill for the owl to pick up later. News from home was all she wanted. But her request for information regarding the Malfoys was the most surprising part of her correspondence.

"She's with Malfoy," Harry said to no one but himself. "What is she doing with Malfoy?"

He placed her letter on the kitchen table and retrieved a fresh sheet of parchment. If she wanted information, then he wanted answers. He knew she would withhold information on certain topics, but she had to understand his hesitation about her keeping company with Draco Malfoy. There had never been an indication that the two were anything but uncivil toward one another. That she had decided to run off with him was the greatest shock he had received in a long time.

"And I get to explain this to everyone," he muttered. "Won't that be fun? Ron will just be thrilled that his girlfriend's fled the country with our enemy. And we have no way of knowing where she is."

He answered most of her questions - the family was fine, her parents hadn't been found yet, the dead had been laid to rest, the Ministry and Hogwarts were rebuilding, and the Malfoys' trials had been scheduled for the end of the month. Next, he wrote down a list of his own questions. Most importantly, he wanted an idea of where she was and why she was there with Malfoy. Finally, he ended by asking when she would come home. He expected her to answer none of them.

He placed the folded parchment on the windowsill where he had found her letter. He slipped Hermione's letter into his back pocket and exited the kitchen. Just as he reached the living room fireplace, the floo roared to life. Out stepped Ron with a serious look on his face. "I've been thinking about going to Australia," he stated. "I have a feeling Mione's there looking for her parents."

Sighing, Harry stepped back and took a seat on the sofa. "I got a letter from her today," he told his friend. "It doesn't say where she is, but if I know Hermione, she didn't write this letter from Australia. Not if what those two Death Eaters said was true."

Ron took a seat across from him. "What else does she say?"

Dark eyebrows knitted together. "You're not gonna like it," he warned.


	12. Chapter 12 - Epilogue

There wasn't much interest in this story when I first started posting it. Since abandoning it, I've gotten a lot of requests to finish it. So, here it is! This is the last two chapters plus the epilogue.

* * *

Chapter 12

"So, she's written to you," George remarked. "Big deal. Let her be, Harry. If she doesn't want to be found, then let things stay that way."

"You're telling me you have nothing in your shop that could help track her?" he asked, knowing he had already posed the questions multiple times before.

George eyed him as if he were a small child who just learned to speak English. "This," he said, waving his arms around to indicate the shop they stood in, "is a joke shop. Not a branch of the Auror division."

He began to walk away, just steps from the curtain that divided the shop from the storeroom, when Harry called out, "She's your friend too. Don't you care that she might be in trouble?"

The redhead turned, anger blazing in his eyes. "She's alive. That's all that matters," he stated. "If she wants to be with Malfoy, let her be with Malfoy. That girl is a champion for hopeless cases. Who knows, maybe she'll come home and take me on next."

Harry's mouth, which had hung open with a retort, closed immediately. Easy going George. Jokester George. Life of the party George. He was gone. Because people like Malfoy had killed the one person in the world that George loved wholeheartedly. And there was nothing Harry could do to make things right.

Just as he turned to leave, George's voice stopped him short. "Hey, Harry, what if he forced her to write that letter saying everything was okay?" he asked. "What if she really is in trouble?"

Harry turned back to face his best friend's brother. "That's why we need to find her, George," he replied. "It's why I need to know if you have anything that can help me."

Harry's letter arrived just days after Hermione had sent hers. She retired to the bedroom where Draco was feeding Emily. As she sat down beside him, she waved the letter to let him know it had come. He sat silently, patiently, as her eyes scanned the words on the page. It was a short note, without much detail, but what Harry did have to say was important.

"Their trial is being held at the end of the month," she reported, rereading the letter. "Harry's promised to testify on your mother's behalf. She lied to Voldemort to save him, you know."

Draco nodded though he hadn't known. "Reckon he'd still help her if he knew what I did to you?" he wondered.

She moved closer and kissed his cheek. "He won't find out," she promised. "You and I are the only ones who know, and I'm not saying anything. And maybe it would help for you to stop thinking of it as a kidnapping."

"And how should I think of it?" he wondered, handing Emily to her as he felt his anger rise.

"Convincing a friend to help," she replied. "Because that's what we are now, right?"

He'd made it halfway across the room when her words stopped him. He turned back to face her with a sad smile on his lips. "Sometimes I can't shake it," he said softly. "I know what I did was wrong. It was kidnapping, Hermione. I forced you to come with me, I held you against your will. You can say all you want that you're still here by choice, but it was a choice you should have been allowed to make from the beginning."

"We wouldn't be where we are now if you hadn't Apparated us away to Australia," she pointed out. Adjusting Emily in her arms, Hermione carefully rose from the bed and joined him on the other side of the room. "We wouldn't be friends. We wouldn't have found Emily. I'd be living with the Weasleys or searching for my parents on my own. I'm happy being with you, Draco. Can you say the same?"

Swallowing past the thick lump in his throat, Draco nodded. "I can," he said.

Hermione smiled. "Okay, then just be happy," she replied. "Forget about what happened between us in the past. You're not the same spoiled, selfish, pain in the arse git that you were even a few months ago. You've grown up, Draco, and I like the man I know now."

He moved closer and placed his hand on her cheek. "Are you happy, Hermione?" He needed the confirmation like he needed his next breath of air. "You had Potter and Weasley and his entire family. I thought you and Weasley were together when I took you. Can you really say you're happy when I forced you to give that up?"

She sighed and turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand. "Ron and I always had a volatile friendship," she told him. "We were always fighting or arguing or getting on each other's nerves. He hated that I did well in school, and I hated that he cared more about Quidditch than he did about me. That's the kind of relationship we would have had because Ron doesn't change."

"So, what? I saved you from the misery of dating Weasel?" he asked, pulling his hand away.

"Ron doesn't matter, Draco," she stated, exasperation rich in her voice. "Whatever I would have had with Ron doesn't matter anymore because I don't want to be with him."

He stepped closer and removed Emily from her arms. Walking past her, he placed the baby in her cradle and returned to stand before Hermione once again. "Are you saying you want to be with me?" he asked, tentatively reaching for her hands.

Hermione let him take her hands and linked their fingers together. "Yes, I do," she replied. "Do you want to be with me?"

There was a hopeful look in her warm brown eyes. "You know, my mother once told me that respectable girls like to be asked out on a date before making this kind of commitment," he stated, drawing her closer until his arms wrapped around her waist. "You, on the hand, apparently prefer kidnapping and life on the run."

"I was never interested in being like the other girls," she remarked.

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. "I know. That's what I like best about you."

"So, if your answer is yes, then will you do something for me?" she asked, receiving a gentle nod of his head. "Kiss me?"

And Draco complied.

Chapter 13

"I'm thinking about going back," Draco said one morning as he gave Emily her morning bottle.

Hermione had just woken up and was sure she hadn't heard him correctly. "Repeat that," she said, her voice still heavy from sleep.

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm thinking about going back," he said. "For the trials, I mean."

Sighing, she sat up and eyed him carefully. "Death Eaters are looking for you because they think you've abandoned their cause," she stated, ticking it off on her fingers. "The Ministry is looking for you because they want to bring you up on crimes committed as a Death Eater. Harry and Ron will be after you because I'm with you. After hearing all that, do you still want to go back?"

"They're my parents, Hermione," he said, defeat in his voice. "Even after all the horrible things they've done, I feel like I should support them."

"I understand that," she replied, "but you realize that you'll be risking exposure and capture if you show up."

Draco nodded that he understood, but Hermione knew it didn't matter to him. There was no changing his mind once it was already made up. "I'll be safe," he promised. "I'll use glamour charms or Polyjuice to change my appearance. Or I'll just cast a Disillusionment charm and no one will even know I'm there."

But Hermione shook her head, dashing his plans. "The Ministry has detection charms in place, designed to reveal who you really are should you employ any of those methods," she told him. "After we broke in a few months back, they were put up to avoid another catastrophe. I doubt the new regime thought to take them down. It's not a bad security measure."

Sighing, he rested his head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. There had to be a way in. He needed to see his parents. For all he knew, it could be his last chance. They needed to know that he was alright. "Is there anything you can think of to bypass detection?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her for help.

Hermione got out of bed and paced the room. There had to be something. A spell she had overlooked or a potion that would be undetectable. But nothing came to mind. "What if I went instead?" she suggested. "I know you wanted to see them yourself. I know a spell, one Fred and George Weasley taught me. I'll need two objects, one that won't be so conspicuous. The spell will allow you to see everything I'm seeing."

"What about the detection charms? You can't disguise yourself," he pointed out.

"Simple. I go as myself," she replied.

Draco shook his head and eased himself off of the bed. "No, Potter and Weasley know we're together," he said. "You show up there, they can easily follow you back here. And I'm caught just like that."

She sunk down at the foot of their bed and sighed. "I hadn't thought about that," she admitted. "But there has to be a way for one of us to get in there."

"Muggles dress up in costumes all the time, right?" he asked, handing Emily to her as he sat down beside her. Hermione nodded, unsure what he was getting at. "Well, what if you did that? Some kind of disguise. Different hair, glasses, something that would hide who you are."

"It could work," she agreed. "Are you okay with me doing this?"

Draco shook his head. "Not entirely, no," he admitted. "I'm more worried about your safety than I am jealous that you'll get to be there and I won't. I'm an accused criminal, and helping me escape probably makes you an accomplice or something. You shouldn't get in trouble for me."

"Then maybe neither one of us should go," she replied. "I can ask Harry about the trial."

"Do you think it's really such a good idea to continue writing to him?" Draco wondered. "I know you said it's untraceable, but Potter's smarter than we give him credit for. He may have told you that he won't look for you, but you know he is. And he's not going to stop until you're safely home."

"And home might not be so safe now," she replied.

Draco nodded in agreement. Options were dwindling for the pair, and he was sure they would soon need to move on. The question of where always remained. "I'm tired of running," he declared. "Maybe I shouldn't have left in the first place."

"Don't second guess yourself," she told him. "It'll do no good now. For now, we focus on Emily and keeping her safe. And for now, we are safe. We'll go home eventually. Now isn't the right time though."

Shaking his head, Draco got to his feet. "No time will ever be the right time," he stated, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm a fugitive, you're a missing person. We can never go back."

A smile twitched her lips. "Not so," she informed him. "I've been working on some new identification for us. Emily now has a birth certificate, you and I have passports and driver's licenses. I just need a name for you and we're done."

"And then what?" he wondered. "We continue to move around? Emily grows up living in a new city every few months? She should have a home. A real home."

"And we can give her that," she promised him. When she stood up, Draco took Emily from her arms and held her close. "We've done a pretty good job of living like muggles so far. This could be permanent. We can work and find a real place to live, someplace with real furniture. We could have a life here, Draco."

"That's what you really want?" he asked, stepping closer. His lips hovered above her own, waiting for the perfect moment to touch. "Living like muggles, working regular jobs, only being able to do magic in the privacy of our own home?"

Rising up onto the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips to his. "Would you be okay with it?" she asked when she pulled back. "Being a muggle after so many years of your Pureblood upbringing?"

He glanced at Emily who cooed as she stared up at him. "Our daughter's a muggle," he replied. "I think I could be one too."

Epilogue

Dear Hermione,

I don't know if you'll actually get this letter, but I wanted to let you know that the Minister has decided to pardon Malfoy. It took a lot of convincing, and I won't say it was easy to get Kingsley to see things my way. If getting Malfoy cleared of his charges means getting you back, then it was worth it. It's been awhile since I've heard from you, and I miss you terribly. Please come home.

Love,

Harry

The sight of an owl delivering a letter amused two-year old Emily Malfoy to no end. "Mommy, birdy." She pointed to the snowy white owl that perched on their kitchen windowsill.

Pushing away her breakfast, Hermione crossed the kitchen and retrieved the letter. It had been years since they'd received mail the magic way, and her heart raced at what it may contain. Placing it on the table, she lifted Emily from her chair. "Go find Daddy," she told her, placing her on her feet. Now alone, she opened the letter and read the short missive from a friend from an old life.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, fixing his tie as he entered the kitchen.

"Letter from Harry," she murmured, handing him the letter as she cleaned off the table. "Sounds like good news."

"Sure, if we wanted to go back," he replied when he joined her by the sink. "I'm more than happy to be exactly where we are. The Malfoy family with their sweet little daughter. I like working and coming home to my wife and kid every day. And sure, no one knows my real name, but it was a small price to pay for our freedom."

She turned on the water and scrubbed each plate and pan by hand. "He never gave up," she muttered. "I told him to just leave it alone, but he didn't."

He reached around her and shut off the water. "Why is that a bad thing?" he wondered. "He's your friend, he cares about you. Enough to get me pardoned, which I never would have expected."

"Do you want to go back?" she asked, turning to face him. "Can we even raise Emily in the wizarding world?"

"We can," he replied, "but I don't want to. If it's anything like it was when I grew up there, non-magic children don't have the easiest time. And maybe it's not like that anymore, but I don't think Emily needs to know about that place. We'll explain magic to her when she's older."

Hermione nodded. "I don't want her to grow up there either," she agreed. "Sometimes I wonder if maybe I wasn't that far off when I told Harry I was tired of living in the wizarding world. Being here the last couple of years, even being on the run, I felt less in danger than I had at Hogwarts."

"So, are you going to write back?" he asked. "When's the last time you contacted him? I mean, how much does he know?"

"Nothing," Hermione told him. "After that first letter, I never wrote back. He doesn't know where we are. He doesn't know about Emily. He doesn't know that we got married. Until now, it seemed safer to keep him in the dark. Do you think I should tell him?"

Draco shrugged and pulled away as Emily rejoined them with a book in hand. "It's up to you," he replied as he picked the little girl up. "If you want him to know, then tell him."

Hermione watched her husband and daughter exit the kitchen. She could tell Harry everything. Draco was safe. No one would lock him up in Azkaban and throw away the key. But she had built a life in the muggle world, one she loved more than anything. Inviting Harry and the Weasleys back into the fold would jeopardize it all. They would insist she come back. And that was something she wouldn't do.

Her mind made up, she turned Harry's letter over and picked up a pen.

Dear Harry,

I already am home.

Yours,

Hermione

The End.


End file.
